


Rose Petals and Pearl Dust

by very_important_army



Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Fluff, M/M, yanjun being an idiot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-11-01 07:27:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20811317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/very_important_army/pseuds/very_important_army
Summary: Why is everyone so fond of You Zhangjing, anyway? He must be part-Veela, or something.In which Yanjun is a whole idiot.





	Rose Petals and Pearl Dust

_ first year. _

“Lin Yanjun,” assistant headmaster Professor Fan Bingbing calls out. Yanjun walks towards the stool where the Sorting Hat rests. He picks up the old, worn hat, heavier than he expected, and puts it on his head. The crown is too large, and the brim falls over his eyes, but before he can adjust it, the hat starts speaking. 

Yanjun flinches. 

“ _ A bit jumpy, aren’t you?”  _ The Sorting Hat snarks. “ _ So, let’s take a look at your goals…” _

_ “I want to be the most handsome boy in the school!”  _ Yanjun thinks, determined.  _ “The most popular one, the one that everyone has a crush on!” _

_ “...” _

Yanjun never knew that the Sorting Hat could be rendered speechless. 

“ _ What an ambition,”  _ The Sorting Hat says as dryly as a hat possibly could into Yanjun’s mind. “ _ Guess that puts you in... _ SLYTHERIN!” 

As the hat is removed from eleven-year-old Yanjun’s head, he thinks he can hear the hat mutter, “ _ it’s not like I could’ve put you anywhere else, I guess…”  _

As Yanjun struts to his new table, he preens at the attention that he’s already getting. Some of the older Slytherin girls are looking at him approvingly, so Yanjun pretends to be coy— he peeks out from underneath his lashes and smiles, close-lipped, just enough so that his dimple makes an appearance. The girl that he’s looking at giggles, and Yanjun slides into an empty seat at the table, satisfied. 

Yanjun kind of tunes out after that, as Assistant Headmaster Fan calls out dozens of unfamiliar names. It’s not until a ripple of murmurs break out that Yanjun looks towards the front again. 

A small, shy-looking boy is toddling towards the seat, eyes wide and round. The hat barely touches his head before it calls out a triumphant “HUFFLEPUFF!” and the boy shuffles towards the black and yellow table to the sounds of gushes and adoring screeches. 

“How adorable,” the Slytherin girl who had giggled at Yanjun has the audacity to coo. “I think he’s the cutest first year we’ve seen this year!”

_ Excuse me?  _ Yanjun bristles. He’s so much cuter than that shortie, he even has a dimple! He purses his lips in the way that he knows makes that little dent in his cheek appear, and is satisfied when the girl across from him notices and begins to squeal, forgetting about that Hufflepuff with the cheeks. As she should. 

\--

The next morning, Yanjun carefully brushes his hair so that it’s just tousled enough to look effortless and natural. With a grimace, he pulls on the required robes that make him look shapeless and short — who decided it was a good idea to make first-year robes this long? What eleven-year-old is this tall? Yanjun isn’t  _ short  _ like a certain Hufflepuff he could mention, and he’s rather tall for his age (or so he likes to believe—that Bi Wenjun kid that was Sorted into Ravenclaw yesterday is just an anomaly), but these robes still trail onto the floor, making Yanjun trip over the hem every three steps. 

He just prays that he won’t fall down the stairs on the way to breakfast. 

So, of course he does. 

He tumbles right into another boy walking into the Great Hall, and to make matters worse, it’s  _ him.  _ His sworn enemy, his rival, the bane of his existence, otherwise known as that  _ cute-boy-from-Hufflepuff.  _ What a morning. 

“Oh, hi!” The other boy beams. “You’re a first year too, right? Ohmygod, I’m so nervous about this, my parents are non-magic—err, I think they’re called Muggles?— so I have no idea what to expect but this is all so cool!” He pauses to take a breath. “Oh, and you’re Yanjun, right?”

At the sound of his name, Yanjun startles from where he had been staring at the other boy’s lips, watching his mouth form different shapes as words spill from his mouth. He has crooked, imperfect teeth, and Yanjun feels a brief moment of triumph at finding a flaw. 

He’d die before admitting that the two larger front teeth, reminiscent of a bunny, are actually kinda cute. 

“Err, yeah. Who are you?” 

“I’m Zhangjing!” He replies cheerfully. He kind of has an accent, but Yanjun can’t place where it’s from—all he can tell is that it’s neither the standard Chinese nor the Taiwanese accent like his own. “Let’s get breakfast! I heard that you can just ask for whatever you want and that you can eat as much as you want—I’m so excited!” Zhangjing takes his wrist in his small, warm hands and pulls him through the open doorway into the Great Hall.

Though Yanjun saw it yesterday, he can’t help but gape at the lights and the long tables, standing in the archway in awe. Zhangjing seems to have no such thoughts, weaving around people to make a beeline for a tall, innocent-looking boy with a wide smile sitting at the Hufflepuff table, who waves him over with a bright grin. Yanjun notices a pink bunny-ear bow tie hanging around his neck in addition to the black robes, and he has the sudden urge to pat the other boy on the head. Zhangjing waves at about ten people in passing across all four houses, and Yanjun wonders when he had time to make friends with everyone— Yanjun barely knows his own roommate, a boy called Li Changgeng. 

Yanjun trots over to the Slytherin table, plopping down in front of the pancakes. 

“Hey, you’re in my seat, Yankai.” Yanjun continues munching on the fluffy goodness, staring off into space. 

“Hey, Yankai?” A tap on his shoulder makes him look up, and he proceeds to choke on his pancake. A really tall, really intimidating Slytherin stares down at him, and Yanjun briefly wonders if he’s related to any vampires. 

“Sorry!” Yanjun squeaks out, quickly getting his plate and tripping over himself to give up his seat. The boy across from him looks up. He’s pale, with black hair and round cheeks, and an oddly adorable resemblance to a cartoon monster from a Muggle film. Despite that, however, he radiates power. 

“Don’t scare the poor kid, Bu Fan,” he says. “He’s clearly a first-year.” 

“I wasn’t gonna kick him out, Xingjie,” the tall one scoffs, “just ask him to scootch over a bit.” He brings his long legs across the bench, leaving a bit of space beside him. “C’mon back, Yankai.”

“My name is Yanjun,” he stammers, still a little overwhelmed. 

“Oh.” At least Bu Fan looks a little sheepish. “Whoops. Sorry about that. Sit.”

So Yanjun sits. 

An eventful morning, indeed. 

\--

Yanjun’s too scared to sit with Xingjie and Bu Fan again, but this time he manages to find his roommate already at the table.

“Changgeng!” He calls out, trying to get his roommate’s attention. “Save me a seat!”

A little ripple of whispers from the students beside him distracts him, however. “Oh Merlin, did you hear his accent? So cute,” they coo. Yanjun never realized that having a Taiwanese accent could be considered  _ cute,  _ but he preens anyway. 

“I just want to run my fingers through his hair and kiss him on the cheek. He’s so fluffy!” 

With each passing word, Yanjun’s smile grows, and he nearly skips to the Slytherin table. 

“Look at him smile, his adorable little teeth! They’re like bunny fangs, I swear...” 

Wait, teeth? Yanjun stops dead in his tracks. They’re not talking about  _ that guy,  _ are they? 

“Look, there he is! Zhangjing, hi!” Zhengting, a pretty first-year in Gryffindor, yells loudly. Yanjun follows his gaze and looks to the side, where he finds the Hufflepuff in an animated conversation with Linong. He looks extra tiny besides the taller boy, his curly hair a fluffy mess, and his smile flashing every second. Yanjun’s eyes hurt from the brightness.. 

At the call of his name, Zhangjing flushes pink, but waves back at the boisterous boy with two chubby hands, flashing his uneven bunny teeth in a small smile. 

They were talking about  _ Zhangjing?  _ Yanjun is offended. 

Why is everyone so obsessed with him, anyway? 

_ second year. _

It’s a new year, and a new Yanjun. 

Or maybe not. 

What first-year Yanjun and second-year Yanjun have in common is the ability to utterly embarrass himself in front of older students, and then get flustered when they talk to him. (Yanjun still has traumatic flashbacks of Bu Fan towering over him.) 

Case in point: the really tall, handsome, princely Gryffindor named Wang Ziyi. He’s an older student, going into fourth year, and Yanjun wants to swoon at how beautiful he looks when he furrows his brows, trying to perfect his Defense Against the Dark Arts spells. 

“Hey, uh, Ziyi,” Yanjun squeaks out after a violent shove from Changgeng. Yanjun isn’t sure whether to curse at his roommate or thank him when Ziyi turns his beautiful brown eyes to Yanjun. 

“I was um, wondering, since I saw you working on DADA, and you seem to y’know, know what you’re doing…” Yanjun splutters. He takes a deep breath, trying not to blush. He fails. “I was um, wondering if you’d like to be my tutor?”

Yanjun doesn’t really need a tutor, but Ziyi doesn’t have to know that. 

Wait, oh no, Ziyi’s grimacing. Why is he grimacing?

“Er, I’m glad you seem to think so, but I’m actually kind of struggling at DADA myself.” He waves his wand, and little white wisps splutter pathetically out of the tip. Ziyi sighs.

“But earlier I saw you making blue sparks...they looked cool.” Yanjun pouts. 

“Yeah, uh, they weren’t supposed to be blue...or sparks.”

“Oh.” Cue the awkward silence. When will Yanjun stop being an embarrassment to himself? He can see Changgeng, that traitor, trying and failing to contain his laughter. Well, it’s not like he was trying very hard. 

Ziyi pats Yanjun nicely on the shoulder. Yanjun tries to ignore the tingles erupting where Ziyi’s palm touched his skin. “Well, if I find a good DADA tutor, I’ll make sure to send them your way!”

Yanjun sighs. “Thanks, Ziyi.” Why is he so nice?

Too bad Yanjun can’t stop making a fool of himself in front of him. 

\--

Yanjun doesn’t notice Ziyi walking by as he’s shoveling food down his throat, famished after a long day of trying to desperately hang onto his broomstick so that he won’t come hurtling down to a very painful death. Changgeng elbows him in the side, causing him to swallow his gulp of pumpkin juice too quickly. 

“It’s Ziyi,” Changgeng hisses to him, somewhat unnecessarily — Yanjun can already see the beautiful specimen of man walking into the Great Hall, making his way to the Gryffindor table. 

“Ziyi!” Yanjun calls out, eager to call out to the older boy before he gets too far, but his voice comes out choked and airy. Yanjun immediately dissolves into hacking coughs that unfortunately aren’t loud enough to drown out the sound of Changgeng’s snickering, but are violent enough so that Ziyi looks over with a questioning glance. 

“Hey Yanjun,” Ziyi looks back at him, a little concerned to see Yanjun hacking his lungs out, but manages a small uneasy smile at Yanjun. 

Of course, who should pass by at that exact moment if not You Zhangjing. 

“Ziyi!” The Hufflepuff calls brightly and sweetly, without choking. Why does this kid know everyone?

Ziyi dissolves into a kind smile, reaching his arms out. “Hey, Zhangjing!” 

Zhangjing all but squeals, enveloping the older boy in a bear hug. Even after Zhangjing pulls back, Ziyi slings an arm around the smaller boy, keeping them in contact. 

Yanjun fumes. 

“Oh, Yanjun, weren’t you looking for a DADA tutor?” Ziyi asks. “Zhangjing here is in your year, he’s amazing at DADA!” 

Crap. Yanjun doesn’t actually need a tutor, and Zhangjing knows that. 

“Er, I’m actually okay now,” Yanjun mumbles weakly. 

Ziyi looks confused, but nods anyway, steering Zhangjing away towards their respective tables. 

Yanjun glares at his goblet. He’s never drinking pumpkin juice again. 

_ third year.  _

Yanjun’s first sip of butterbeer is rich, cooling, and almost cloyingly sweet. He gulps it down, relishing in the sweetness. He looks around the cosy inn, seeing familiar faces like Zhu Xingjie and Wang Ziyi, and great, there’s You Zhangjing. Yanjun almost rolls his eyes, the sweet drink suddenly turning sour in his mouth.

But for the first time since Yanjun met him, Zhangjing is sitting alone. A half-empty goblet of butterbeer is in front of him, condensation slicking the surface. His face is flushed pink, and the light of the fireplace bathes him in a golden glow. As Yanjun watches, Zhangjing begins giggling to himself, and downs the rest of goblet before rubbing at his eyes.

Madam Rosmerta flits over to point her wand at Zhangjing’s empty goblet, disappearing just as quickly as she appeared, and by the time Zhangjing opens his eyes, the only trace of her is the full goblet of butterbeer. Even from where Yanjun is sitting, he can hear Zhangjing’s awed gasp over the din of the pub. 

His legs automatically stand up and make their way over to Zhangjing’s table (“Yanjun? Where are you going? Hello?”). 

“Yanjun!” Zhangjing gasps when he approaches. He smiles happily, cheeks lifting and gums showing. Yanjun’s heart pounds. “Yanjun, look, I have a magic goblet! When I finish my butterbeer and close my eyes, it magically gets refilled!”

Yanjun sighs, deciding not to burst his bubble — he’s not entirely wrong, even if it’s not the goblet itself performing the magic. “Zhangjing, did you seriously get drunk off  _ butterbeer?”  _

Zhangjing hiccups. “I’m not drunk!” He protests. “Look, I can stand up just fine.” He then proceeds to topple into Yanjun’s chest. “Look, I’m not on the floor.” 

Yanjun can’t respond — he has a faceful of Zhangjing’s curly hair, and the scent of something citrusy invades all his senses. It smells good, and Yanjun can’t help but hold him closer as Zhangjing staggers towards the door. 

But it’s not like Zhangjing is going to remember the way Yanjun held his hand as the Hufflepuff sloppily taps his way into his empty common room.

As for why Yanjun suddenly helped his so-called enemy, well, at least this would be great blackmail material?

(Secretly though, Yanjun doesn’t want to share Zhangjing’s drunken smiles and soft touches with anyone, not even Changgeng. His roommate will just have to wonder.) 

_ fourth year. _

Wang Linkai, Yanjun decides, is the most intimidating Hufflepuff he’s ever met. For some reason Yanjun doesn’t quite understand, the younger boy calls himself  _ Lil Ghost—  _ why would he want to be associated with people like Nearly Headless Nick and The Bloody Baron? 

Yanjun shudders, and tries to give him a wide berth. 

Linkai may be a Hufflepuff, but Yanjun wouldn’t put it past him to suddenly hurl a fist at his face if Yanjun breathes at him the wrong way, and he’d really like to preserve the handsomeness that his mother gifted to him. 

To make him even more terrifying, the younger boy proves to be extremely adept at Charms. Yanjun once saw him nonverbally cast  _ Aguamenti,  _ a spell that no second-year should’ve been able to master to begin with, all for the sake of pranking Bu Fan. So not only is he incredibly skilled, he also dares to risk the older Slytherin’s wrath. Because unlike Yanjun, the younger boy became fast friends with Zhu Xingjie and Bu Fan, the terrifying older students that Yanjun would never talk to in fear of being beaten to a pulp for saying the wrong thing. 

Sometimes Yanjun wonders if the Sorting Hat made a mistake. How can this sneaky, clever boy not be a Slytherin, like his friends? He barely even sees Linkai with other Hufflepuffs. 

So when one day, Yanjun sees Linkai sneak up behind an unsuspecting Zhangjing, Yanjun is ready to call out in panic. It’s not like he and the Malaysian are  _ friends,  _ but he doesn’t want to see him  _ hurt.  _ His gut twists as he thinks about what Linkai is going to do to the other Hufflepuff. 

But before Yanjun can even open his mouth, the younger boy just leaps onto Zhangjing’s back with a loud laugh, wrapping his arms around Zhangjing in a tight hug. Zhangjing laughs blithely in surprise, and Linkai hops off Zhangjing’s back to nuzzle into his neck and interlock their fingers together. 

So clearly Linkai and Zhangjing were friends. Who knew?

\--

Apparently Chenggeng knew. 

“Yeah, I see them together a lot,” his roommate says. “Linkai kinda dotes on Zhangjing.”

Yanjun huffs. “Am I even surprised?” Why do so many people seem to like Zhangjing anyway? Yanjun is suspicious. 

Changgeng shrugs. “I mean, Zhangjing  _ is _ pretty awesome.”

Yanjun stares at him, betrayed. “You didn’t just call my  _ sworn rival _ awesome.”

Changgeng, the snake (no pun intended), just laughs. 

There’s something fishy about Zhangjing, and Yanjun swears he’s going to get to the bottom of it. 

_ fifth year. _

Fifth year means O.W.L.s, and O.W.L.s means a stressed out Yanjun. 

“Yanjun, please, I need help with Potions, you’re the best,” Changgeng babbles desperately. 

“Learn it yourself, I need to focus on DADA!” Yanjun spits out. He wants to cry, shaking his wand aggressively. 

“Dude, watch out!” Changgeng grabs Yanjun’s wand and directs it away just as a loud, violently red burst of light explodes from the tip and hits the wall. The rabbit in the painting on the wall bounds into the neighboring picture in fear, where the picture of Headmaster Zhang picks up the quivering rodent and  _ tsks _ at Yanjun. Yanjun bows his head in apology, chagrined. 

“Why don’t you ask Zhangjing for help? You know he’s the best at Defense in our class,” Changgeng suggests. 

Yanjun looks over at where the Hufflepuff is seated and fumes. “No thanks, I’d rather not interrupt his time with  _ Wenjun. _ ”

“Wenjun?” Changgeng repeats in shock. He follows Yanjun’s gaze. 

When Yanjun had walked into the library that morning, he had gotten a shock. Bi Wenjun, the handsome, aloof Ravenclaw in their year, is for the first time that Yanjun can remember, not sitting alone. You Zhangjing is sitting next to him, half a dozen textbooks open in front of them, avidly discussing something with Wenjun. 

Yanjun very vividly remembers Wenjun exiling Fan Chengcheng and Zhu Zhengting, two of his closest friends, from his library table, to the exaggerated dismay of the other boys. Wenjun values his peace and quiet, Yanjun knows. So why is You Zhangjing sitting next to him, laughing and nudging at Wenjun’s shoulder playfully? Why isn’t he being kicked out like Wenjun’s previous tablemates?

This is suspect. Yanjun is convinced. Too many people love Zhangjing—there must be something going on here! After all, Zhangjing is so good at Defense, he must’ve picked up some things about Dark Magic too. 

Yanjun’s first thought is that Zhangjing must be slipping love potions to people. After all, he eats with so many different people, it must not be all that difficult—wait. Is that Changgeng walking over to Zhangjing and Wenjun?!

“Hey Zhangjing,” Changgeng greets. The Hufflepuff looks up at him and beams. Does he ever get tired of smiling? It must be fake. “Can you go help Yanjun with Defense so that he has enough time to help me with Potions?” 

Zhangjing perks up. “Wenjun and I are studying for DADA now too! Yanjun, come here!” He waves Yanjun over. As if he’s been put under the Imperius Curse, Yanjun’s legs bring him over to their table. 

“What are you working on?” Zhangjing asks. 

“Um, disarming charm.” 

Wenjun flicks his wand silently, and Yanjun’s wand goes sailing in an arc above their heads. Yanjun glares at the Ravenclaw. 

“Great idea, Wenjun!” Zhangjing cheers. What idea? “We’re practicing nonverbal charms,” Zhangjing exclaims. “So we can help you practice disarming by casting our charms nonverbally. Here, try me.”

Yanjun points his wand at Zhangjing, who merely lifts his wand. “ _ Expelliarmus!”  _ The red light manages to fly only a couple feet before it rebounded off an invisible shield in front of the Hufflepuff. Yanjun scowls, embarrassed and irritated. “How is this supposed to help me, exactly?”

Zhangjing laughs lightly, playfully, and despite himself, Yanjun’s shoulders relax. “Let me try again,  _ without  _ the shield this time.” 

When Yanjun chants the spell again, and Zhangjing’s wand flies out of his wand, the Hufflepuff’s proud smile fills Yanjun with a warm glow and renders Wenjun’s irritation at him forgotten.

_ sixth year.  _

Yanjun stabs at his treacle tart, glaring profusely at the Hufflepuff table.

"Why do you look constipated?" 

"Why am I friends with you?" Yanjun snaps. Changgeng pretends to be affronted. Yanjun sighs. "Sorry, sorry..." 

"Okay, but seriously, why are you murdering your tart?"

"Since when were Zhangjing and Zhengting so close?" Yanjun snarls, further destroying his tart. Indeed, the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor are sitting so close they're practically cuddling. 

"Um, I don't know, but they both literally know everyone in this school, so I'm not really surprised...?" Changgeng levels an inquisitive stare at Yanjun. "Why do you care, anyway?"

"I don't!" Yanjun splutters. "It's just, that, they're, PDA! Too much PDA!" 

"How? I didn't even notice until you pointed them out." 

Yanjun just grumbles incoherently. 

And it's not just once. It seems like everywhere Yanjun goes, Zhengting is draped around Zhangjing. Yanjun is inexplicably annoyed.

\--

“Yanjun, are you  _ jealous?”  _ Changgeng bursts out in annoyance after Yanjun asks  _ are you sure they’re not dating?  _ for the tenth time. 

“No,” Yanjun is affronted. “I am just suspicious. He’s not even  _ that  _ cute. Why is everyone so obsessed with him?”

Changgeng mumbles something that sounds like, “ _ You’re  _ obsessed with him.”

“Excuse me?” Yanjun squawks. “I am not. He is just taking my role as the most loved in our year!”

Changgeng just levels a long stare at him. Yanjun feels exposed. (Even though Changgeng is wrong.)

\--

Yanjun curses, stumbling through the halls and nearly falling down the moving stairs. Why are the dungeons so damn far?

It’s all because Justin lost his toad the day before, and  _ of course _ it just had to show up in Yanjun’s dorm right before he had Potions class. So he lost a good half an hour having a mental breakdown and cowering on his bed before Justin finally burst into the dorm and gathered up his frog in his hands, apologizing profusely.

So now he’s running late, and leaping over stairs in order to get to class on time. He’s not very successful.

“Thanks for joining us, Yanjun,” Professor Cheng Xiao says dryly. “Please take a seat, we’re making Amortentia today.” 

Yanjun collapses into his seat next to Changgeng, who’s already grinding up some Pearl Dust. “Go get rose petals,” his roommate instructs. “This potion is really hard.”

“Okay!” Yanjun pants, quickly skimming the board before going up and collecting all their ingredients. “Let’s do this.”

\--

“Okay, but listen—” Yanjun begins loudly. Changgeng has his chin propped on one hand, doodling random shapes on his parchment with the other. “What if Zhangjing is part  _ veela? _ ”

“Zhangjing looks nothing like a veela,” Changgeng answers distractedly. “Yanjun, what are ten uses for billywig stings?” 

“Levitation,” Yanjun replies offhandedly. “But back to the important stuff.” He slams his fist on the table. A mouse in the corner squeaks and dashes off.

“We’re in the common room, Yanjun, please. And my Potions essay is  _ very _ important.”

“I bet that Zhangjing slips love potions to people!” Yanjun announces triumphantly. “He’s so smart, he could totally pull it off. And he is always eating with people! So many opportunities to just sneak a drop or two into their food without them even realizing!” Yanjun stops short, gears in his brain churning. “ _ And,  _ he even reeks of love potion! The one we made today reeked of grapefruit, and literally that’s all Zhangjing smells like. Changgeng, don’t you think that’s possible?”

“Huh? Sure,” his roommate replies, frantically scribbling. “Yanjun, please, this essay is due tomorrow, I don’t know what’s going on.” 

“Zhangjing gives people love potions?” Yanjun hears a squeak from beside him. Li Quanzhe is looking at him with wide eyes.

“Err..yeah!” Yanjun nods confidently. “He must be, right?”

“Does that mean that he’s been feeding them to Zhengting and Wenjun?” Quanzhe asks, lower lip trembling. 

“I think so!” Invigorated, Yanjun nods frantically. 

Quanzhe whimpers and dashes off, calling for someone named Zibo.

Yanjun nods to himself, satisfied. “Aren’t I a genius, Chenggeng?”

His roommate finally looks up. “Is it true that billywig stings are used in Fizzing Whizzbees?”

\--

By lunch, the entire school is buzzing.  _ Zhangjing, love potion,  _ and  _ bewitched  _ are whispered in every conversation, and Yanjun is preening. 

“It’s not true,” Wenjun can be heard saying in frustration. “If I were under the effects of a love potion, don’t you think I’d realize?”

Jeffrey pats his arm gently. “You don’t know what you’re saying, it’s the potion talking, Wenjun.”

Zhengting is rolling his eyes dramatically. “Don’t be stupid, guys, I’m not under a love potion. Or, if I am, it’s definitely not  _ Zhangjing _ who gave it to me.” And with this statement he wraps his arms around Wenjun’s thin frame, nuzzling into his neck. 

Yanjun gags at the public display of affection. Zhengting’s potion must be wearing off.

Ziyi just sits quietly, strong arm around Zhangjing. The smaller boy looks shaken (probably since his nefarious plot is now exposed, Yanjun muses), and he keeps picking at his food. 

Yanjun is pleased. Now that Zhangjing is exposed, he can claim his rightful place as Hogwarts’s most handsome, attractive, loved student. 

\--

“I’ve got you now, You Zhangjing!” Yanjun crows triumphantly, bursting into the empty Potions classroom that Zhangjing slipped into after dinner. He jabs a finger at Zhangjing’s turned back, and though there’s no way Zhangjing should’ve been able to see him, his back hunches as if he felt the blow. 

"I knew you were up to something—!"

Wait, no, he didn't hunch over because of Yanjun's phantom hit — he's hunched over because his chest is shaking with quiet sobs. Yanjun abruptly shuts up. 

"Zhangjing? Are you okay?" Yanjun asks unsurely.

The Hufflepuff lets out a wet little laugh. "Do I look okay?"

"But was I wrong?" Yanjun argues. The stubbornly proud streak in him, the Slytherin in him, refuses to admit defeat. "We made love potion in class that smells like grapefruit, and you smell like grapefruit. You must've been making batches and batches of it, so much so that you smell like it even when you're not using it!"

At the end of Yanjun's little tirade, Zhangjing is no longer crying. He's hiccuping, air escaping his lungs cutely, but the tears have stopped flowing. He's looking at Yanjun curiously, head tilted to the side in a way that Yanjun shouldn't think is cute. 

So he doesn't. 

Really. 

"What?" Yanjun asks, hands rising to his chest self-consciously. 

"The potion we made smelled like me?"

"I mean, I said that you smelled like it, but same thing, I guess."

"No, Yanjun," Zhangjing says. "Your potion smells like me." He points to the chalkboard, where the notes from the day's class is still written on the board. Zhangjing is pointing up, above where the recipe for the potion is written.

"Amortentia," Yanjun reads. "So what?"

"Read the next line."

_ Amortentia is the most powerful love potion in the world. It is distinctive for its mother-of-pearl sheen, and steam rises from the potion in spirals. Amortentia smells different to each person, according to what attracts them. _

"So the reason you smell me..." Zhangjing begins.

"Is because I'm attracted to you." Yanjun finishes in disbelief. 

"Um. Yeah."

"So you haven't been giving people love potions?" 

"No, Yanjun," Zhangjing sighs. 

"So why is everyone always all over you?" Yanjun bursts angrily. Zhangjing just blinks innocently. 

"Um, I don't know." But then Zhangjing's eyes turn steely. Yanjun gulps. Suddenly, the little Hufflepuff looks much more terrifying. "But now everyone in Hogwarts think I slip people love potions! You're fixing this, Lin Yanjun!" He whirls past Yanjun, the scent of citrus wafting towards Yanjun as he brushes past, and marches out the door with little footsteps.b

Yanjun is hopelessly endeared. 

\--

Yanjun fidgets in the Great Hall. He really doesn't want to do this — after all, he's not in Gryffindor for a reason. He's really considering just running away, grabbing a muffin and hiding in his dorm. 

But then he looks over at the Hufflepuff table, where Zhengting has his arms wrapped around Zhangjing, Ziyi is putting food on his plate, Linkai is trying to feed him, pressing a dumpling against his lips, and Wenjun is sitting serenely across from him. Linong is chattering brightly to everyone around him, and Zhangjing looks small and lovable. 

Yanjun wants to sit with them. 

“Oh hey, Yanjun,” one of the older Hufflepuff girls greets him as she walks by. Yanjun waves at her, flashing his dimples.

“Yanjun! Are you going to Hogsmede this week?” Zheng Ruibin asks cheerfully. Yanjun shoots a thumbs up in his direction. 

“T-this is for you,” a first-year girl stutters, shoving a pink letter into Yanjun’s hands before running off to join her giggling friends. Yanjun beams. It feels good to be popular, Yanjun thinks happily.

But then his eyes slide over past where Zhangjing is sitting quietly, nibbling at his food, and something unfamiliarly uncomfortable twists in his gut. 

It’ll be fine, Yanjun decides, taking a deep breath, the whole thing will blow over by the time the new school year starts. 

_ seventh year.  _

Yanjun takes a deep breath, taking in the surroundings on Platform 9 ¾ for the last time. Parents, students, and magical animals clamor noisily. Owls hoot. Frogs croak. 

“Oh Merlin!” Yanjun shrieks, leaping away as a fat bullfrog comes hopping rapidly by in front of him. 

“Sorry, Yanjun!” Justin calls, sprinting after the amphibian. 

One last year of dealing with Justin’s cursed pet that he can’t seem to avoid losing. Yanjun pulls open the door to the train, hoping to get away from the frog. 

Miraculously, the carriage is near empty. Yanjun sighs in relief, about to sink into one of the seats, when he notices a lone figure near the front. He treads closer, somehow not surprised to see Zhangjing’s small figure leaning against the window. 

“Hey,” Yanjun offers awkward. “Have a good summer?”

Zhangjing just twitches a shoulder in reply, looking like he’s unsure of whether to smile or glare. Thankfully, the Hufflepuff in him wins out, and his lips curl into a defeated smile. “As good as it could be without half my friends talking to me,” he says quietly. 

Yanjun winces. “Is that why you’re alone today?” He doesn’t really need an answer to that. 

Instead, he slips cautiously into the empty seat next to Zhangjing. 

“If they believed a rumor over you,” he begins, “then maybe they aren’t real friends at all. They’re just jealous.”

Zhangjing looks him straight in the eye. “Like you were?”

Yanjun doesn’t have an answer for that. 

\--

“Changgeng,” Yanjun says, bursting into his dorm. “I fucked up.”

“Hello, Yanjun. How was your summer, Yanjun? I missed you too, Yanjun.”

Yanjun waves carelessly in his roommate’s direction. “Changgeng, help, how do I fix this?”

“Too bad there’s not another rumor going around to overshadow it,” Changgeng muses. 

Yanjun perks up. “You’re a genius!”

“Huh? Oh, I mean, I knew that, but thanks anyway. Oh Merlin—!”

Yanjun grabs Changgeng’s shoulders and shakes him. “Okay, here’s the plan. Listen up.”

\--

“Did you hear? About Yanjun?” Although she’s trying to whisper it, Yanjun can hear her loud and clear. 

“Yeah. But I mean, I guess love just makes us do crazy things.” The other girl giggles, shooting a furtive glance at Yanjun. 

Yanjun continues walking, trying to hide a smirk. His plan is working. 

Zhangjing looks up at him when he walks into the Great Hall, eyes wide. He’s not the only one who notices Yanjun’s entrance — the entire hall quiets down for a split second before breaking into frantic, hushed whispers. Yanjun walks in with his head held high. 

Zhou Rui leans in, eyes glinting deviously. “So, is it true? You spread the rumors about Zhangjing last year because you were jealous?” 

Although Yanjun was expecting this, the tip of his ears still glow red. “So what if I did?” he asks defensively. Zhou Rui withdraws, satisfied. 

“Never thought you had it in you,” the seventh-year says. “I knew the Sorting Hat put you in the right House.”

Yanjun just shoves the food in his mouth, waiting for the chance to talk to Zhangjing. 

\--

Zhangjing looks up when Yanjun enters the Potions classroom. The board is wiped clean, the tables neat. But the room still smells like grapefruit, and the scent only gets stronger as Yanjun walks towards the smaller boy. 

“Thanks,” Zhangjing says quietly. 

Yanjun shrugs awkwardly, all bravery now fading in the face of this unassuming, gentle boy. “It’s not like it isn’t true, even if it didn’t really happen in that order.” 

Zhangjing looks at him, pensive. “I haven’t decided if I forgive you yet.” 

Yanjun’s heart sinks. “That’s...fair,” he chokes out. He swallows hard. He opens his mouth, not really sure what to say, but he should say  _ something.  _

“But,” Zhangjing continues, not giving him a chance to speak, “I’ll let you know when I do.” And then he steps forward, right into Yanjun’s personal space, and assaults his senses with the scent of grapefruit. He leans up, pressing his lips against Yanjun’s cheek, right on the corner of his lips, before brushing past him and disappearing out the door. Yanjun sags against one of the desks, mind reeling from shock. 

Maybe Yanjun doesn’t want to be loved by all of Hogwarts anymore. Maybe he just wants to be loved by one smiling Hufflepuff. 

  
  
  
  



End file.
